


Pain and Sundaes

by belmanoir



Series: Flying from the blast [4]
Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Consensual Humiliation, Kink that is not entirely safe and sane, M/M, background Tony/Bruce/Pepper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-25
Updated: 2012-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-08 12:44:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belmanoir/pseuds/belmanoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Loki and Tony went out, and one time they stayed in. <i>"Can you still do that teleportation thing?" Stark asks. "Because everyone I know hates small plates and I need someone to go to this new restaurant with me."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Pain and Sundaes

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** alcoholism, self-hatred, consensual humiliation, kink that is not entirely safe and sane.

1.

Loki's phone rings. _Tony Stark_ , it tells him. He hesitates, then ignores the call. It rings again. He ignores it again.

Thor's phone rings. Thor answers it. "Tony Stark! Are you well?" He listens for a moment, then holds out the phone to Loki. "He wishes to speak to you, brother." Loki takes the phone.

"Hey, I need a date to this thing," Tony Stark's voice tells him. "Can I pick you up in fifteen minutes?"

Loki blinks. "A...date?"

"Yeah, for this thing. Pepper was supposed to go with me but she got food poisoning. Bad shrimp. I had the kitchen manager fired. Look, that's not the point."

"You know we're in Australia, don't you?"

"I'm _in_ Australia. I'm switching the Sydney Opera House to running on green energy. We're lighting her up tonight and I need serious eye candy on my arm for the red carpet. It's for charity."

"Charity," Loki repeats, skepticism dripping from his voice.

"For the kids. They're donating the savings to arts programs in schools. Hey, you should be all about it. Drama club would have done you a world of good."

Loki hangs up. 

Stark calls his phone again, and this time it answers itself. Loki's attempts to turn off the phone do absolutely nothing, and when he throws it, it bounces. "Look, if I go by myself, I'll get bored," Stark's voice says tinnily. "And then I'll get drunk, and then I'll misbehave, and when Pepper stops throwing up"--so that's what that noise in the backround is--"she'll literally kill me." There's a pause. "Okay, she won't kill me, but she'll make that face, that _Tony, I'm disappointed in you, I thought you'd grown as a person_ face, and it will age her prematurely. Strangers will think she's my mother." There's a thud at the other end of the line, and Stark makes a sound of pain. "Look, I don't get what the problem is. You like opera, right?"

Loki can't decide if it's a real dig, or just Stark's general razor-edged impudence. "You know I love opera," he purrs. 

But either Stark doesn't hear the threat, or he ignores it. "Just magic yourself some clothes. But less conservative than Stuttgart, okay? It's a night out, not a GQ shoot--" This time he lets Loki hang up.

He turns to Thor, who looks thrilled. "What will you wear, brother?"

"You don't really think I'm going."

Thor's face falls. "But Tony Stark has urgently requested your presence. He asked for you."

Thor looks so happy for him: _finally my little brother has a friend._ It's humiliating, but if he throws a fit and insists on staying home, that won't be any less pathetic. And he'll have to deal with Thor's reproachful looks all night. 

And--a red carpet. A night out. Opera. Figuring out what's going on in Tony Stark's devious head. In spite of himself, he's tempted. 

###

"You look stunning," Stark says. Loki thought Stark would approve; he's opted for a sleek tux with green Converse, a green bow tie with bronze polka-dots, and an ironic Silicon Valley ponytail. He strikes a mocking little pose and smiles with his eyes. He's noticed that in person, smizing has an extremely unsettling, piercing effect. 

"Broken-down doll!" Stark beams and snaps a picture on his cellphone. He examines it thoughtfully. "You could have made more of a shape with the arms, maybe let me see some of the background inside your elbow, but for a girl with no previous modeling experience, impressive."

Loki is startled. Stark turns away carelessly, just one more joke he doesn't expect anyone else to get, and Loki says, "I need to stop relying on the pretty gene."

Stark's grin spreads across his face. "Never stop relying on the pretty gene, that's my motto. So were you rooting for England or America this season?"

Loki looks at Stark, considering. Glib, sneaky, easy breezy and beautiful. Stark probably liked Sophy. "Laura was robbed," he says.

"Sophy was a Cover Girl," Stark insists.

Loki leans back against the luxurious limo cushions and listens with half an ear to an hour-long dissertation on Tony Stark's ANTM Opinions, 2003-present, with brief segues into appropriate superhero names ("Superhero names should be bestowed by the public or the press"), celebrities who write novels (he's for it, and is planning a spy thriller named _From Russia with a Really Well-Designed Bodysuit_ ), and who would win if the Avengers went on Top Model (Steve, no question). The champagne is fantastic, and so is the caviar. The last time Loki had caviar this good--well, it was when he gatecrashed that Russian wedding at the beach last week, but before that it had been months. He's enjoying the slide of silk and wool and fine cotton against his skin.

###

"Oh my God," Stark moans partway through Act I. "How do people sit still for three hours of this?" He signals for more champagne. He's already had a bottle and a half, maybe more. Loki feels uneasy. He doesn't enjoy being drunk, himself; doesn't like being out of control. Thor and his friends drank like fish, of course. 

"I thought you were trying to _avoid_ looking like an alcoholic." He leans back in his seat and shoots a gleaming grin across the box at Stark.

Stark glares at him. "I thought you were trying to be less of a little bitch."

"What gave you that idea?"

"Oh, I don't know, nobody's died yet this evening."

Loki's nerves are buzzing now. "Just how bored do you have to get before you wish someone would?"

Stark's jaw clenches. He downs his glass of champagne and turns determinedly back to the opera. "Fuck you."

"You'd have to, I doubt I'm big enough to satisfy you the other way round," Loki murmurs.

"Excuse me?"

"You must have misheard me."

"Leave Bruce out of this." Stark sounds drunk but serious. Loki makes a mental note that this is where Stark is vulnerable. How quickly he came to his lover's defense. Thor would merely have pretended to not understand. 

###

On the way out, he lets Stark give one or two extremely embarrassing soundbytes to the press before hustling him into the limo.

 

2.

Thor hands Loki his phone. "Can you still do that teleportation thing?" Stark asks. "Because everyone I know hates small plates and I need someone to go to this new restaurant with me."

"Go by yourself."

"I hate doing things by myself. Come on, the opera was fun, right?"

Loki lets the silence linger for several moments. 

"I won't drink this time," Stark offers. 

"You could take Thor." 

"One, why would I want to take Thor? Don't get me wrong, I like your brother. If I were picking my team for a dodgeball game he'd be number one! But. And two, I know I'm fabulously wealthy, but not fabulously wealthy enough to take Thor to a small plates place."

Loki can't decide whether he hoped Thor heard that, or hoped Thor didn't. Stark shows skill at flattery. Again and again he's pinpointed Loki's weak spots without even trying. This is some kind of battle of wits, and Loki's not ready to run away just yet.

###

"So what did you eat in Asgard?" Stark asks. Loki tries to decide whether he meant it to hit a nerve. Loki misses familiar foods. "I mean, is it like roast boar and venison and putting spices on the rotten meat to hide the smell, or was it more of a nectar and ambrosia situation, or what?"

###

"...in Vanaheim they use hrokhogg fat in their dough. It gives the crust such a flaky sweetness that..."

He glances at his phone. He's been telling Tony Stark about food he and Thor and their friends ate on their travels for forty-five minutes. Apparently the man can listen as well as speak.

Stark doesn't comment on it when Loki trails off, either. "You would make a great restaurant critic," he says, pointing at Loki with his fork. "You've got the personality for it."

Loki thinks he might mean that as a compliment.

###

Loki gazes at the sundae with pure delight. "How much did this cost?"

"I didn't look," Stark says with an airy wave. Loki raises his eyebrows. "Okay, I did look, that's half the fun of eating it. It was a thousand dollars."

It's a beautiful piece of unconscionable decadence, ice cream topped with vanilla, candied fruits, marzipan cherries, truffles, one of the world's most expensive chocolate sauces, and an edible leaf coated in 23 karat gold. In ten minutes it will have vanished entirely from the earth.

"And there's sweet caviar," Stark says. "You like caviar, right?"

Loki's eyes narrow.

"I'm trying to be better about remembering details," Stark explains. "I'm good at remembering things, it's just about what I prioritize."

Loki feels unsettled. Why is he on Stark's priorities list? "And we can't get our money back even if we don't eat it?"

Stark shook his head. "They sell one of these a month, it's not like they can just put it in the freezer for the next guy. Why, are you disgusted by my flagrant display of privilege?"

Loki grins and turns the sundae into a snake. He laughs until his ribs are sore at the look of dismay on Stark's face. When he has his breath back, he turns the snake back into a sundae.

"Is it still good?" Stark looks suspicious.

"Of course." Loki hands him one of the gold spoons.

Stark doesn't take it. "I don't like to be handed things. So now that it's been a snake, is it easier to make it a snake again? Like when it's in my stomach?"

Loki hasn't yet learned to change the shape of things he cannot see. But he says, "If I wanted to turn your stomach contents into snakes, I would have done it already," and eats the entire sundae himself. It's delicious, but not by any means the most delicious thing he's ever eaten. That almost makes the whole experience better, that this restaurant was able to lift a thousand dollars out of Tony Stark's pockets for an illusion.

"Better than the joy-apples of Nidavellir," he says. "Maybe you should get a second one for yourself." He laughs at Tony's frown.

 

3.

"Me and Bruce are going antiquing," Stark says. "You love pointlessly expensive stuff, right? Meet us in half an hour." He texts Loki an address.

Banner is nervous. He is so nervous that when Loki materializes beside him, he barely even notices. "Tony, don't make me go in there."

"Don't be ridiculous," Stark says. "You collect salt and pepper shakers."

"I used to collect salt and pepper shakers," Banner corrects him. "I smashed them. I don't collect things anymore."

Stark beams. "You used a first-person pronoun, I'm so proud of you! Come on." He takes Banner's hand and drags him unwillingly into the shop. It's filled with small, fragile things. Some are valuable for themselves, others only because they have lasted this long without breaking. Stark picks up a rose-painted teacup. "Ooh," he says, "pretty." He checks the price tag. "Two-hundred fifty, huh? What do you think, Loki, is it worth it?" 

He tosses it to Loki, who grins, flickers, and lets the cup pass through him, reappearing next to a display of old cameos. The cup shatters, and Stark looks thrilled. "I broke something," he says to the distressed woman who appears around the corner. "Two-hundred fifty. Bill me."

Banner looks as if he's trying to shrink in on himself. "Tony..."

"Get used to it," Stark says. "There is literally nothing you can break that I can't afford to buy." He slings an arm around Banner's shoulders and steers him towards a display of porcelain greyhounds. He winks at Loki as he goes. "Do you think Pepper would like one of these?"

Loki gets it now. He's here to make Banner look safe. He can do that. 

He does it with great enjoyment for the rest of the afternoon. He doesn't allow himself the slightest flinch when Banner's eyes meet his (fortunately, not often). They all know Banner is stronger than he is, but that's not Stark's point, is it? If they're both ticking time bombs, the odds are good Loki will go off first.

There's a knot in his stomach that he doesn't understand. Or--that he doesn't want to understand.

 

4.

"Hey, you want to go to the premiere of _Fast Six_? I know how much you enjoy explosions."

Loki doesn't answer.

"Come on, everyone else hates it when I talk at the movies. Me and Rogers got in an actualfax fight last week, that's how much he hates talking at the movies."

Nicole wants Loki to talk directly about things that upset him. But something soft and pink inside Loki squirms at the idea of saying, _I don't want to be the person you call when your nice friends are too nice._ It's laughable in him to take offense, and folly to show Stark weakness he'll only exploit. They aren't really friends. 

"Look, I know you're still there." 

Loki hangs up.

Stark calls back. "Did you just hang up on me?"

Loki can hear his voice going low and amused and faintly menacing. "People who treat their pet tigers like humans get eaten."

There's a long pause. "So far the only person Bruce has eaten is _you_." He can hear in Stark's voice that he's spitting mad. "I consider than an acceptable risk. But if you're _scared,_ " he says in tones of condescending pity, "you can just say so."

"Oh, I wasn't talking about Banner," Loki says smoothly. _Not_ because he wants Stark to know how he feels. Because he can't let the insinuation that he's frightened of a great green mindless _thing_ stand. 

So that's why Stark has felt so comfortable around him. Because he thinks Loki fears the Hulk's retribution too much to hurt him.

"Oh. Sorry. Good because I really hate it when people--" Stark laughs. "Wait, are you my pet tiger now? Can I get you a collar with 'Fluffy' written on it? Can I take you for a walk in the park on a leash? Can I feed you off my plate? Can I--"

Loki hangs up. Stark calls back four times, then calls Thor. "Don't answer that," Loki says. Stark starts texting.

_What the hell?_

_Did I hurt your feelings or something?_

_I do that a lot so probably you should just tell me and I can apologize because waiting for me to figure out what the fuck I did 1/2_

_has not historically been a successful strategy 2/2_

_Come on, just come to the movie with me_

_I wouldn't really name you 'Fluffy' if you were my pet tiger, I know it's undignified_

_What do you think about 'Hobbes'?_

_Sorry, do you even get that reference? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calvin_and_hobbes_

After a few minutes, that stops too.

###

Loki watches the red carpet footage of the premiere. He can't help it. Stark is drunk. "Do you think you could bench press me? I could get the suit right now if you wanted to try," he tells Vin Diesel, who smiles politely and edges away. "Let's arm wrestle!" Stark calls after him. 

"Can I ask you something?" he asks the E!Online presenter. "If a guy throws you out a window, do you think that entitles you to, like, a get out of jail free card when you get his panties in a twist?"

The girl smiles, obviously trying to decide whether this is viral video material or just embarrassing. "I'm sorry?"

"No, bad question. Better question: what are you wearing under that dress and can I see?"

Thor sits heavily on the bed next to him. "Someone should end this. Where is Pepper?"

"You can't save someone from himself," Loki says sharply.

Thor's gaze falls on Loki. He says nothing, but Loki can almost hear his thoughts. _I saved you._ He swallows bile and shuts the laptop.

###

He tries to explain the situation with Stark to Nicole. He fails, because he can't really bring himself to tell her why he's angry. He can't bring himself to talk to her about the Hulk, either. She seems to think he felt excluded spending time with Stark and a closer friend, and suggests that he invite Stark to spend time with him and Thor, so he can understand that it's natural for people to have relationships of different degrees of closeness and that different friendships aren't in competition with each other.

He calls Stark and invites him to dinner. "Wait, so you're not pissed at me anymore?" Tony asks. "Wait, let's not get into it, if you're over it I'm over it. So you can teleport Thor too? Does this mean you can teleport me places? And is magic, like, its own kind of power or is it compatible with science? JARVIS, remind me to pick Loki's brain next time he's over here."

Stark takes them to a steakhouse. Loki carefully steers the conversation into reminiscenes with Thor.

It doesn't make him feel better. Thor is in high spirits, downing steak after steak and totally unaware that Loki is using him to get at Stark. 

Loki can't hide from himself that his purpose isn't even to make Stark jealous. It's to show Stark that he _can_ be good. That he was good, once. Mostly.

 

5.

"Pepper and Bruce are out of town, we can throw a party and trash the place!" Stark says.

Loki hesitates. 

"But not really, Pepper just redecorated. It was a metaphor you would understand if you'd watched as many teen soaps as I have. Really I was just thinking a sleepover, you and me and my state-of-the-art home entertainment system and my brilliant new design for a popcorn popper. There's a Top Model Marathon on. Pepper and Bruce will totally be jealous they missed it on their back-to-nature no-technology bullshit camping trip."

 _It's okay to set boundaries, it's not your responsibility how people react when you're taking care of yourself,_ Nicole always tells him. Loki can't breathe. _Thor is right to think you a coward,_ he tells himself, and that makes him angry enough to say, "Not if you're going to be too drunk to carry on an intelligent conversation."

"I'm never too drunk to carry on an intelligent conversation. Don't hang up! I hate being hung up on. I _can_ enjoy myself without alcohol." Loki doesn't answer. "Does it really bother you?" Stark asks curiously. 

Loki's throat is still tight. He can't possibly explain. "It's boring."

"Fine, whatever, no alcohol, be here in--"

Loki plucks the phone out of his hand and hangs it up, grinning.

###

A three-hour conversation about magic later (Loki doesn't think Stark will ever manage to duplicate the things he can do, but that just makes showing off more fun), Stark leans across the couch and says, "If I kissed you would that be, like, a thing?"

Loki freezes. "What?"

"I'm bored and lonely and horny and I bet you're amazing in bed. Come on, don't tell me you've never thought about it."

Loki _has_ thought about it. He doesn't think Stark would appreciate his thoughts. He's has never seen the point of sex when he wasn't using it to hurt someone. Sometimes himself, sometimes not. He's trying to leave that behind. He misses it. 

Maybe part of his new life is learning to like a different way.

"Let's just try it," Stark suggests. "What's the worst that could happen?" He leans in without waiting for Loki's answer. Loki kisses him back as best he can, but he doesn't feel a thing.

Stark pulls back. "Is it me?" he asks. "Or do you just not swing that way? Because I really thought you swung that way. I thought we had, like, a vibe going."

Loki could shrug it off and say he's not interested and Stark will forget about it eventually. It's not as if Loki is his only option, after all. But Loki knows if he does, he'll spend the entire rest of the night thinking about it and he's already going to have to sleep in his Asgardian form. He'll be tired and angry all day tomorrow and he just can't face it. "My desires are generally limited to the perverse," he drawls.

Stark's eyes light up. "I swim in perversity like a fish in water. I don't even see it. What kind of perversity?"

Loki can tell Stark is imagining some cute scenario with handcuffs and whipped cream. He smiles cruelly. "Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to."

"I have never in my life asked a question I don't want to know the answer to," Stark says as if he actually believes it. 

Loki leans in. "I want to hurt you," he whispers in Stark's ear. Stark would never, ever give up, but his body would. He'd take it and take it and it would be killing him but he'd still be trying to pretend he didn't feel it. A shiver runs through Loki.

Stark blinks. "Really?"

Loki laughs. He knew Stark didn't want to know. "Did you think I was too _fond_ of you?"

Stark shrugs. "I guess I just pegged you for a bottom."

"What?"

"You know. I thought you'd want me to hurt _you._ "

Loki's skin catches fire with shame and sudden, irrepressible arousal. Stark could tell? "Why?" His throat is dry.

Stark's eyes sharpen, as if he can read something in Loki's face. "It's just something I pay attention to. I'm not the Pope. I give myself a 76.3% accuracy rate. Are there kink clubs in Asgard?"

If there were, no one told Loki where. He shakes his head.

"Look, if it's something you like enough, at a certain point you have to get past all that 'Does this make me weak' and 'Is this because my father liked to humiliate me' and 'Am I really this much of an asshole' shit and accept that it's a part of you. Otherwise you just end up doing it bareback in sweaty clubs with guys you don't even like because--well, you get the idea."

Loki only understood about half of that. But his skin hums with electricity. He can't speak.

Stark leans in. "You want me to punish you, Loki?"

Loki's whole body shudders. Stark crows with laughter. Loki's face flames with impotent rage and extremely potent desire. "76.4% as of this moment! Well, probably you're a switch, so okay, 76.3 again." He looks at Loki. "You want to give it a shot?"

Loki's heart is pounding so hard he can barely hear. He shouldn't do this. He can't do this. But he craves it like he craved water in the arid dark spaces between realms. He smiles a little wildly. "Why not?"

Stark's face lights up. "Best slumber party ever." He rubs his hands together. "Just say 'safeword' if you want me to stop, okay? Yeah, I know, it's more fun to use an actual word, but I didn't use mine for so long I forgot what it was. Think about it and pick something between now and next time. Now get on your knees."

Loki doesn't move.

Stark leans back against the couch. "I said kneel." There's a edge to his voice that wasn't there a second ago, the slight but clear difference between Tony Stark being hostile in a friendly way when he likes you, and friendly in a hostile way when he doesn't. There's a gleam in his eye, as if he can't wait for Loki's reaction.

Loki forces himself to think about Stuttgart, about how good it felt. About the spear's weight in his hand. He can't bear this tension coiling inside him. "Make me."

Stark laughs. "Oh, I don't have to make you," he says. "I couldn't make you if I tried. But I don't have to, because _you want it._ "

Stark is right. Nicole does this to Loki too, won't let him pretend he doesn't have a choice. He does have a choice, and that just makes it more awful that his choice, right now, is to get on his knees, desperately grateful for this sick burn of shame and humiliation. Desperate to know what Stark will say next.

Stark stands up and walks around him, slowly. Loki tries not to tremble, but his heart is pounding so hard--

"Thor probably has people lining up to kneel down and suck his big blond cock," Stark says. Loki's fists clench. He should tell Stark not to talk about Thor. He should care that Stark could tell Thor about this. He does care. The idea makes him sick and that just makes it better. There's something wrong with him. "And you know what makes it so funny? He probably doesn't even want them to, because he's got nothing to prove." Stark comes to a stop in front of Loki, smirking down at him. Loki bites his lip until he tastes blood. 

"Nobody tries to make an entire square full of people get on their knees unless they're compensating for something. You got a small dick, Loki?" Stark's foot comes up and rubs against him through his jeans. Loki keeps his lips shut tight, but his chest is heaving. Stark rubs his foot back and forth, just watching. Loki grits his teeth against the wash of pleasure, but he knows Stark can see it in his face. The corners of Stark's mouth tilt smugly up, and Loki presses forward against his foot hard and glares at him.

"Let's see it," Stark says. "Undo your pants and push them down."

Loki hesitates, but it's too late now to hide this from Stark. It's too late to pretend to be normal. He might as well go all the way. He pushes his jeans down his thighs. He's hard as ice. Stark sees it and grins. "You were made to kneel," he says. "No, I mean really, look at you. Wow. Open your mouth."

For a second Loki's chest feels tight, because Stark is pushing him this hard and still trusts him enough to pull his softest, most vulnerable part in Loki's mouth. 

"Come on," Stark says with amused malice. "Don't play hard to get. Open it."

Loki growls at him. Stark chuckles and pats his cheek, and Loki opens his mouth. His own lack of pride raises the hairs on his skin like the moment before lightning strikes. 

"Good boy, Fluffy." Stark pushes his penis in. Loki could bite it off, just a snap of his jaws. He presses with his teeth to point that out, and Stark actually gasps and shoves in deeper, so that Loki's teeth catch and slide on his tender skin. "If I bought you that leash," he says, his voice high and rich with the joy of uninhibited cruelty, "you'd wear it."

And that's it, Loki's gasping around him and so aroused he might not be able to breathe even without Stark's manhood pressing against the back of his throat, because Stark is right. Stark knows he could hurt him any way he wanted and Loki would come crawling back like a cur, licking at Stark's hand as it struck him. He closes his eyes and tastes Stark on his tongue and makes no pretense at all that he doesn't want this. 

Stark laughs wildly. "Fuck, Loki, I didn't think you'd be _this_ easy. I mean I really thought you'd be more committed to your whole bad boy image. But I'm glad you didn't bother because honestly, nobody cares about your pain."

There's a chilly feeling in Loki's gut. All of a sudden he doesn't want this, and that just makes him want it more. He pushes his head forward, trying to take Stark's manhood deeper.

"Wah wah, my father never loved me, my big brother is taller than I am, it's like watching _Degrassi: the Next Generation._ "

Loki puts a hand flat on Stark's stomach. And he could pretend he's fighting back but Stark loved the teeth. Stark beds the Hulk. He wants this edge of danger and Loki wants to give it to him. He slides his hand up Stark's chest and takes hold of the arc reactor by his fingertips.

Stark freezes in fear, and then spills down Loki's throat. Loki gave this to Stark and now he takes it back, quickly and quietly. The ball of unhappiness in his chest is the best thing he's felt in months. Stark collapses on the floor next to him, giggling and gasping. "Oh wow, that was fantastic, you almost gave me a heart attack, for a second there I almost thought--give me a second, I have to get back in the mean zone, holy shit."

He could have done it. He could have ripped Tony Stark's heart out. And now they both know he doesn't want to. He starts to pull up his jeans, feeling cold and charged up and ready to crush his erection behind his zipper.

Stark waves a hand and shakes his head, still wheezing. "No, no, a second, literally, okay, come here," and he tugs Loki over to sit between his legs. His hand curls comfortably around Loki's penis as if they're friends after all, as if he can know these things about Loki and still esteem him, and the intensity with which Loki wants this impossible thing to be true and hates himself for wanting it has him thrusting hopelessly, eagerly into Stark's hand. He clenches his jaw shut to keep from making a sound.

"You want me to punish you, right?" Stark says conversationally. "You want me to make you feel as bad as you deserve." He rubs his thumb over the head of Loki's penis. Loki thinks about what Stark would say if he could see Loki's ridged blue member, and the sick buzz inside him grows until he thinks it might rip him apart, until he feels a sceam building in his throat, tears pressing at his eyes, rage pounding in his temples. Maybe he'll disintegrate like Laufey. "Well good luck with that, I'm pretty sure it's not actually possible to feel that bad. I mean if we're talking about what you _deserve_."

Loki bows his head. Stark's hand is carelessly competent on his manhood. Stark feels nothing about any of this and Loki gasps and thrusts and _needs._ This is always the best part, when he's reduced to begging. "Stark, please," he says, just to hear how pathetic he sounds. He's close, he's so close--

"But that's okay," Stark says, "because you don't really want that, do you? Do you know what you really want me to say?"

Loki shakes his head, and Stark says snidely, "I love you just the way you are."

Loki freezes. 

"And it's never going to happen because let's face it, the way you are is frankly unacceptable." There's a pause. Loki trembles on the edge. "Are you, like, close at all? Because honestly I'm kind of getting bored here."

Pleasure explodes through Loki like a dying star.

###

"High five," Stark says.

Loki rolls his head to the side to look at him blankly from where he's slumped against Stark's sofa.

Stark holds up one hand. "Awesome sex, high five."

Loki isn't actually sure what a high five is. He tries to decide whether to admit it.

Stark starts to look nervous. "It was awesome, right? You seemed into it so I just went with it. I mean it was awesome for me, but maybe you're not a humiliation guy, maybe you really only like pain--"

It hits Loki that life is nervewracking for everyone, not just him. He gives Stark a chilly smile. "I'm fond of both."

Stark relaxes. "Me too! But we'll have to alternate, because I'm not such a fan of both together. No judgement, it's a personal thing..." He rambles on. Loki watches him without really listening until something in the quality of the silence tells him he's supposed to answer. He plays back Stark's most recent words. _It would be easier if I could use a spreadsheet,_ in the wistful tones of someone who knows he's going to be refused. 

Loki's heard spreadsheets referenced on television often enough to know it's some kind of record-keeping tool. He doesn't see why it should matter to him whether Stark uses one. "I don't know if I would feel comfortable with something so clinical," he says insincerely.

Stark's eyes sharpen delightedly. "What'll it cost me?" Loki still isn't used to someone noticing when he's being sarcastic. He likes it. He also likes negotiating deals in which he has no stake.

He reaches out an arm without moving the rest of his body and taps the bracelets that summon the suit. "Next time, you take these off," he says, just to see what Stark will say.

Stark inhales sharply, then grins. "Hot, but not on the table, sorry. How about I buy you another one of those sundaes?"

Loki makes a show of considering. "Two."

"Deal." 

Loki holds out a hand to shake.

"For a deal this big, you should really demand a pinky swear," Stark says, but he shakes.

Loki gives in. "What's a pinky swear?"

"JARVIS, set up a new spreadsheet," Stark says, and goes on to explain pinky swearing, cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die, Bloody Mary, light-as-a-feather-stiff-as-a-board and a series of other enjoyably disturbing Earth childhood traditions, in between creating several dozen columns, including: "date," "time of day," "who tops" (with a checkbox for "from the bottom," which Loki expects will be explained eventually) and a space for subjective notes. He asks Loki to estimate his average refractory period and to rate his overall satisfaction with this evening as well as intensity of orgasm. Loki answers with varying degrees of honesty. He feels worn out, purged for the moment of venom. He hopes that if Stark wants to share a bed, he doesn't monopolize the blankets.

"And where do I rank if you were going to rate all the lovers you've ever had?" Stark asks seriously. "Top five?" Loki laughs. "Thought maybe I could just slip that in there."

Loki flashes him a wicked grin. "Maybe in the morning."

Stark laughs too. "I have peppermint lube around somewhere. I think you'll like it. JARVIS, make a column for lube flavor."

 _Just accept that it's a part of you,_ Stark said. Loki doesn't see that something being a part of him is a good reason to accept it. But... _part of you._ Just a part, one of many. He has lots of parts: pain and sundaes and red in his ledger and Thor and his terrible Jotun face and _America's Next Top Model_. 

Maybe he doesn't have to choose. Maybe he can have them all.

**Author's Note:**

> I based the sundae on [this one](http://www.luxist.com/2007/05/09/grand-opulance-sundae-at-serendipity-in-nyc/).


End file.
